


Along Came the Dog

by lalalyds2



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Hilda finally gets taken care of, and oh my gosh the Tenderness, it's so soft y'all, oh and also Zelda tries to get them kicked out of a bookstore, this is some Soft Self Indulgent Goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalyds2/pseuds/lalalyds2
Summary: It's been a rough time for the Spellmans (and us, like oh my god 2020 get some chill and wear a mask and maybe you'll calm down ffs) and Hilda has been through Enough. so now she's finally getting taken care of!
Relationships: Hilda Spellman/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Along Came the Dog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterhearts/gifts).



> am I finally writing the fic I promised winterhearts back in september for her birthday?? yep. is it late as hell? you betcha!! but is it Also so Gentle and Tender that the self-indulgence committee needs to shut me down for greed? fuck yeah!  
> it's closer to your Next birthday than Last birthday bestie, but still - happy belated birthday! 💖

Hilda hasn’t been collecting insects lately.

It’s a Spellman-known fact that Hilda has a little, lobster trap-like contraption that catches the house flies and other bugs. She keeps it in her solarium, tucked in safe between ficus and fern for rainy days or when her spiders are feeling particularly lethargic.

It’s been empty for a while.

Zelda’s noticed.

She’s been noticing an awful lot lately.

Like how Hilda has stayed in her kitchen and greenery, creating and nurturing life, be it through favorite meals or cultivated calathea, and doing nothing else.

Like how she no longer sews.

Like how she avoids the phone, only answering if she’s been specifically asked for. Speaking in tentative words, too quiet to be eavesdropped upon, too short to really say anything at all.

Zelda notices.

She watches with quiet calculations, trying to figure out why her little sister has so gently dimmed.

~*~

It hits her when she sees the abandoned shot gun, shoved deep in the back of the closet.

 _Oh_.

 _Oh Hilda_.

Caught in a web of unspoken hurts, and she’s been trying to heal alone.

Shame digs like a knife in Zelda’s side.

She hasn’t been a good big sister at all.

~*~

“Won’t you tell me where we’re going?” Hilda asks for what feels like the tenth time, which in reality has only been twice.

They’ve been driving for a half hour, up and out of Greendale. The road had been stretching on in companionable silence, but the painted buildings and strolling sidewalks had piqued Hilda’s interest again.

“If I didn’t say the first time, what makes you think I will now?”

Hilda’s brow furrows at the dismissal.

Zelda only tightens the corners of her mouth, holding something like a grin at bay.

Still, she pulls into the parking lot soon enough. Hilda cranes her head to read the sign.

The brows lift as the eyes lighten.

“Really?”

Shoulders scrunched, Hilda smiles in disbelief.

“I know your stash is getting low.”

A blush at the recognition.

“I usually just borrow.”

Zelda laughs, unbuckles with a brusque motion.

“I think we can afford to indulge you this once.”

Smart enough to not argue further, Hilda just beams and gets out of the car. Is giddy with the possibilities.

Goes so far as to hold her hand close to Zelda’s, so the heat is felt like electricity, tingling with constant presence.

Zelda wonders at how easy it is to please her little sister.

Then she’s being tugged along, led deep into the heart of this city’s bookstore.

~*~

She’s just doing this to stall, she reminds herself.

There are machinations put in place that are meant to be a surprise.

Machinations that take time.

So it’s a good thing Hilda keeps stopping for every new shelf, lips moving silently as she reads each individual title.

It’s good that Hilda stops at a particularly muscled front cover, picking it up and guffawing out loud at the lurid back cover before changing her mind and putting it back.

It’s good that Hilda changes her mind again, picks up the rejected book and opens it to some middle page, reading a chapter and letting her ears go pink before changing her mind _again_ and rejecting the book once more.

It’s good.

It’s necessary.

Zelda is bored to death.

Honestly, she can’t take Hilda anywhere.

She looks at her little sister—and it’s not a glare because that would insinuate that Zelda is losing her patience and wanting to go home and she isn’t losing her patience and wanting to go home because the whole point of this venture was to get Hilda to get out and _stay out_ of their home—and waits.

And waits.

Hilda is thoroughly engrossed in a plain little book and pays her no mind.

There’s no picture on the cover, it’s just blue with pink font that’s hard to decipher, but Hilda’s enraptured.

Zelda watches as her eyes skim the pages, titillation traveling from her avid gaze, blooming across her cheeks like wildfire, clenching in her teeth as her strawberry bottom lip gets sucked in.

Hilda catches Zelda looking and blushes deeper, blood in the veins running hot and excited.

Zelda wants to kiss her right between these shelves of fictional orgasm.

Remind her what a real one feels like.

Moves closer just to hear her gasp, the little noise equal parts delighted and horrified.

“Hilda.”

The breath puffed out on eagerly waiting lips.

“Yeah?”

Hilda’s wearing a sheer gloss.

If Zelda leans even a little, she’d learn its flavor.

“ _Darling_.”

The nose flairs as Hilda breathes in deep.

“ _Yes._ ”

She starts to lean for the both of them.

“I’m going to a different section now.”

Zelda skirts around her flabbergasted sister, exiting the shelves with no further preamble.

She bites her lip to keep from laughing at the image she’s left.

Because it’s Hilda, jilted in a crimson blush, glaring at the books she usually loves as though they’d personally wronged her.

Priceless.

But they still have time to kill, so Zelda squares her shoulders and shakes off the lust.

It’s time to have some fun.

~*~

Overall, she’s having a rather good time.

The only people who’ve been in this bookshop are herself, her sister, and the pipsqueak teen watching the store who can’t get her eyes off Hilda even as she tries very hard to look busy.

It’s too silly to be irked by, so instead Zelda has taken it upon herself to do some reshelving.

The aisles have got quite a lot of error in the nonfiction, so she’s taken it upon herself to remedy the problem.

She’s quite caught up in it; nearly finished by the time Hilda rushes up to her side.

“ _Zelds_!” She hisses between clenched teeth, ripping a book out of Zelda’s hands. “Stop, you can’t reshelve the books!”

“They made a mistake, Hilda. So I’ve fixed it.”

“You absolutely have _not_.”

Zelda just smiles, taking the book back and placing it on the shelf.

“They got the genres mixed up. Put these particular books in the wrong place. So I’ve corrected that for them.”

“Bibles in the ‘ _fiction_ ’ section is not the correct place!”

“Says who? Really Hildegard, what kind of witch are you?”

Hilda’s face looks like it’s battling decisions between giggling from sheer terror, shouting from the vexation of having a sister, or simply having an aneurysm to escape this mortal coil.

“You—the _audacity_ , Zelda—this isn’t—“

Zelda’s never felt so serene.

Hilda’s so upset.

“I’m leaving now,” she loudly announces, squaring her shoulders. “And I don’t know you.”

Zelda waits only a second to follow after her, taking one step for Hilda’s two.

Her hand brushes the back of Hilda’s ass when she catches up.

Hilda’s “ _eep_ ” is nothing short of adorable.

Her glare could cut diamonds.

“Uh, excuse me, miss?”

They halt in their tracks.

Hilda pales significantly.

It’s Zelda who turns around then, innocent smile all lovely and beatific.

“Yes?”

The pipsqueak teen’s gulp is audible.

“Your wife forgot her book?”

Then it’s Hilda turning, gasp outraged.

“I’ve never met this woman before in my _whole entire life_!”

Storms out the door empty handed.

Zelda just sighs, accepts the book, and tries not to whistle as she walks out.

The teen watches from the window as she climbs into the car where Hilda’s sitting.

Well.

Fuming.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“How kind.”

The teen’s still watching them.

Zelda hopes she enjoys her handiwork.

~*~

“I hate you.” Hilda says.

Zelda keeps her eyes on the road, sneaks her hand on top of Hilda’s skirted thigh.

Heat under cotton.

“Mmhmm.”

“I really mean it this time.”

The hand squeezes. Hilda sighs.

“This is like Barnes & Noble all over again.”

“You don’t need them.”

“Oh really?”

Zelda looks at her sister then, eyes heavy and dirty with intention.

“There’s nothing they could sell you that’s more salacious, more comprehensively exhaustive, more dedicated to bringing you to orgasm, than me.”

A long beat.

Hilda just gapes. 

Too soon, she has to go back to looking at the road. Mourns the blush she’s sure she’s missing.

Hilda’s quiet for too long, then—

“Oh don’t give me any ideas.”

~*~

The house is oddly quiet when they get home. Nothing’s amiss.

Hilda is prattling on about the shopping trip she needs to do sometime this week so if Zelda could please finish adding to the list by tomorrow that would be just splendid and Zelda is rolling her eyes and it’s business as usual but she’s starting to worry they didn’t find what she asked for until—

Faint sounds of barking come from Sabrina’s room.

“What’s that?” Hilda wonders.

Zelda sighs, relieved and finally calm, gently ushers Hilda up the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

She just opens Sabrina’s door.

Hilda gasps.

Coming into view is Sabrina on the floor, hair splayed out and legs akimbo, a small black ball of fur held aloft above her as it runs in the air.

“What’s this?” Hilda asks a third time.

Sabrina gets up and holds the fluffy dog out to her.

“We got you a puppy, Aunt Hilda!”

“Wha—no, I couldn’t possibly.” Hilda coos as she absolutely can and does wrap the dog up in her arms, kissing its head and giggling as it licks her face.

“Theo overheard you at the fair,” Sabrina says. “Said you wanted a dog. So we got you one.”

“It’s not a familiar,” Ambrose calls from Sabrina’s bed, grinning at the sight of the two blondes crowding and babying the poor fluff ball. “So it won’t live as long, but we figured you’d enjoy its normalcy.”

“Oh I do, I will.” Hilda sighs, eyes bright as moonbeams.

“It was Aunt Zee’s idea.” Sabrina says proudly.

Hilda spins to see Zelda smiling from the doorway.

“You’re welcome, little sister.”

Hilda smiles, hugs the dog close, and quietly begins to cry.

~*~

She finds her later in the parlor, sipping tea by the crackling fire, the puppy curled up in her lap.

“I’ve decided to call him Pepper.” Hilda whispers, careful not to jostle Pepper from his slumber.

Her eye roll is habit, but not unkind.

“Of course you have.”

She sits by Hilda’s side on the couch, not as careful about Pepper, gently tapping his nose with a finger before settling it close to Hilda’s hip.

He yawns but refuses to be bothered. Hilda combs her fingers through his fur, stares contentedly into the fire, then—

“You’ve been uncharacteristically nice today. Haven’t figured out why.”

“I can pull you from the maw of death, but I can’t get you a puppy?”

Hilda crinkles her nose, looks at Zelda instead of the fire.

Against her will, Zelda’s cheeks warm.

It’s her turn to watch the fire.

“We’ve pushed through a lot this year. Increasing overturn and downfall.”

Hilda’s agreeing hum is low and tired.

“I just wanted to show. We can,” her fists clench on her skirt.

“You can still have good things.”

A warm hand covers white knuckles.

“Oh Zelds, I know that.”

More warmth under her chin, tender thumb on the smooth expanse of her cheek.

Her lips part, and Hilda kisses her.

Kisses her again.

Her gloss still carries taste. It’s sweet and faintly mint.

Zelda opens her mouth, still trying to say more and doesn’t know how.

There’s too much ground to cover.

Hilda’s lips cover hers again, a sigh carried between their tongues, a grace dancing lightly on the points of their teeth.

She kisses her, a promise they’ll keep trying to talk, but later.

“I know.”

~*~

They’ve abandoned the puppy in the parlor downstairs.

Zelda knows Hilda will come back later and let him sleep on her bed, but for right now, it’s just them.

It’s her turn to be greedy.

Hilda is so warm in her arms, so right and welcome, it’s hard to let her go even for a second to divest her of her clothes.

Short work, and then Hilda is open to her, skin flushed and speckled with perfect points to guide Zelda’s map of desire.

She doesn’t get to start, Hilda pulling her close and on top of her.

Zelda settles between her thighs like she was made to be there.

“What do you want tonight, hmm?” She murmurs against Hilda’s mouth, smiling as Hilda’s hips are already canting up against hers.

“You.”

Zelda catches Hilda’s bottom lip, worries the plump flesh between her teeth.

She can still taste gloss.

“That’s too easy an answer,” she says, releasing her lip to look at her.

Hilda’s grin is filled with mischief and covered by the smear of Zelda’s red lipstick.

“Maybe I’m easy.”

“No you’re not!” Zelda practically screeches as she wrenches herself up and off Hilda’s warm body. “I got you a book and a _dog_.”

Hilda pouts, reaching for her.

“I didn’t ask for those.”

Zelda descends, slightly grumpier, nibbling a line down her neck, licking the red marks she’s left in satisfaction. Her leg ruts up against the heat between Hilda’s legs.

The resulting gasp is lush struck.

“That’s the problem, you never ask.”

Hilda bears down on Zelda’s thigh, grinding wet against soft skin.

She blinks heavy-lidded under the weight of her sister, gaze earnest as her hands palm so much heat against Zelda’s ribcage.

“Okay then. Zelds?”

She could melt right there.

“Yes.”

“Make me feel good?”

She does.

~*~

She does so three times before Hilda says it’s her turn.

Zelda says it’s her job to take care of Hilda, not the other way around.

Hilda is quite insistent.

~*~

They don’t stop till the dog barks.

~*~

In the morning when Zelda comes down, desperate for coffee, she spies Hilda in the parlor again.

Pepper at her feet, knitting in her lap.

Hilda’s grin is sheepish.

“I thought he’d look cute in a sweater.”

“And that?” Zelda nods at the sewing kit on the table.

Hilda rolls her eyes, but her telltale cheeks glow rosy.

“You ripped my dress last night.”

“Oops.”

Zelda turns away at Hilda’s exasperated scoff, grins into her coffee cup.

Hilda is sewing again.

It’s progress.

She’ll keep noticing. 

But they’re not getting another dog. 


End file.
